The Waiting is the Hardest Part
by PSU93Girl
Summary: I had an idea of what would have been going through Michael's mind while he was waiting for Fiona to return to the loft at the end of "Where There's Smoke."  This doesn't fit entirely with the timeline but I hope you like it anyway. :


_A/N: After writing the post-Mike and Fi reunion fic this morning I kept getting this idea in my head for a pre-reunion fic. I'm not sure how this will work but we'll see. It's obviously not following along exactly with what happened at the end of "Where There's Smoke" but I think you'll get the time frame. _

_Don't own them, dearly wish I did, am forever indebted to Matt Nix for creating them so I can borrow them for a bit._

I sat at the counter in the loft, exhausted from the day's events but unable to settle down. I was anxious to see Fiona again. Even though Sam had called to say she was fine and other than a few scrapes and bruises unharmed, I needed to see her for myself.

I needed her to be standing in front of me so I could reach out and touch her and know she was safe and whole and back where she belonged.

I needed to wrap my arms around her and inhale her wonderful Fi scent—as much gunpowder as it was vanilla and whatever other scent she chose to use in her morning shower.

Sam was bringing her here but right now it was just me and Jesse. I got up to get him a beer and grabbed one for myself. He was talking about Jacob and Eddy and what their future held. I was grateful that he had helped save Fi and Sarah but he wasn't the one I wanted to be talking to right now.

I did my best to look interested in what he was saying. I think I was doing a good job of replying at all the appropriate times and with appropriate statements but really, I didn't care.

It was strange, this anxiety and anticipation I was feeling. If Fiona knew she'd think I was crazy.

Then I wondered whether she might be feeling that same anxiety or anticipation. It was hard to imagine. This was Fi, after all. And as much as she had wanted us to be a traditional couple in the past, I think she had accepted that that would never be. She might not like it but I think she understood.

So I had to believe that as she made her way back to the loft it was just like any other time she came here after a job. Sure, she had been in danger during this job but that was nothing new. She had chosen to put herself in danger along with the client. And she had come through as she always did. They were both safe, nobody else was harmed, and the kidnappers were in jail, a 911 call confessing to their crimes ensuring they wouldn't be out anytime soon.

I honestly had no idea what Jesse was saying anymore and either he hadn't noticed (unlikely) or he was being polite and ignoring the fact that I was being a terrible host (probably accurate). I hadn't bothered replying to anything for a few minutes, choosing instead to watch the door as if my life—or Fiona's life—depended on it, occasionally taking a sip of my beer.

My mind replayed the events of the last 24 hours as Jesse continued talking. I didn't like when Fiona and I were fighting. She was more often than not right about whatever it was she was mad at me about, and that wasn't easy for me to admit. She didn't get angry easily so when she did it always made me sit up and take notice.

I thought over how I had felt when I heard Sam say, "And Mike… they got Fiona."

My stomach had dropped and panic threatened to take over my world. But I knew Fi and I knew she would find a way out of her situation. And I knew she would need me keeping a level head and doing what I could to help her.

I had been very unsettled the whole time she was locked in the house with Jacob. Especially once Sarah was moved. There was no longer any reason for them to keep Fi alive. I knew she was working to get herself free and I had every confidence in her but still. She was my responsibility and I was helpless.

I thought I heard a car door slam outside. Jesse was telling me about the brothers being arrested and I brought myself back to the present and made an effort to listen to him. He was talking about payback when the door was flung open.

"Fiona."

That was all I could manage to get out of my mouth as I put my beer back down on the counter.

She had been through the wringer. Her dress was torn and tattered—and I had no doubt that most of it had been done at her own hand.

Her hair which had been so beautifully pinned up earlier hung loosely around her shoulders. It was tangled and slightly messy, indicating that she had tried to straighten it before she got here.

She was barefoot, her heels held in her hand.

There was a cut on her forehead and the way she held her shoulder I could tell it was bothering her.

But she was alive, and safe, and whole. I never wanted to let her out of my sight again.

Jesse was suddenly quiet and I forgot he was there.

Fiona paused. "You should see the other guy," she said with a smile.

I smiled and moved around the counter towards her. A few more steps…

She reached out with her free hand as I was finally close enough to touch her.

I wasn't dreaming. Her hand was on my neck and I wrapped her in my arms and welcomed her home with a kiss that told her I had missed her and I was sorry that I had disappointed her and I was so very thankful that she was the resourceful, smart, capable woman I knew her to be.

She returned the kiss with the same passion and intensity. At some point Jesse left and then it was just Fiona and me, wrapped in each other's arms, telling each other all the things we couldn't say in words.


End file.
